Family Relations
by buffyandspike-4ever
Summary: Promise and Niko are getting married, hopefully. But before they can, Promise's creator has to make sure Niko is worthy of her childe. And come hell or high water, Promise is going to marry her man. Includes Vampires, and Auphe, and Werewolves, oh my!
1. Chapter 1

A puck and a peri walk into a bar…

Sounds like a bad joke with a shoddy punch line. That would've been preferable to the reality, which was currently starring me right in the face.

"No, Goodfellow," I said for what seemed to be the thousandth time in as many seconds. Ishiah, bless his peri soul to the depths of Hades, had chosen to leave Goodfellow to his fate and was presently polishing my beer mugs at the other end of the counter. That we didn't open for another two hours and that my mugs were already immaculate didn't seem to matter to him.

"Come on, doll," Robin begged (or as close to begging as a puck can ever get).

I did not even dignify Robin's one-thousand-one-th attempt at coercion with a response. His next attempt would be met with bared fangs and possibly a bite out of his neck. Fortunately for Robin's health (and my own, who knew what puck would do to my diet), he never got the chance to ask again. Ishiah finally intervened.

"Robin, perhaps it would be prudent to give her some time to think on it."

Robin, in a rare moment of clarity, took note of my black eyes, clenched fist, and tightened jaw, and took a hasty step back. "Right, right. You think on it, doll. We'll be back next week." Hee beat a hasty retreat when I growled at him, baring my teeth. Ishiah gave me a pained look and followed after him.

Next week was going to come much too soon.

* * *

With the beat of the band drumming in my ears and the smell of blood clouding my senses, I almost missed Robin and Ishiah's entrance. I wondered briefly how they managed to get passed the werewolf I'd hired for the specific purpose of keeping them out, but that wonderment quickly vanished behind a thick layer of self preservation as I ducked behind the counter and prayed to every god and goddess I knew that they hadn't seen me yet. For the sake of my sanity I figured I could sacrifice my dignity and quickly began crawling along the ground toward my office, from where I could escape into the night.

Sadly it wasn't meant to be. As I rounded the end of the counter, Robin's stylish shoes and silk pants entered my line of sight. I was certain that, were I to turn around, I would find Ishiah's typical worn leather pants and crushing black boots. The world really is an unkind place, it thought to myself as Ishiah grabbed my forearms and hauled me gently to my feet.

"'Lo Robin, Ish," I said, somewhat slurred and much too loud; and if they mistook the necessity of talking loud over the music and the slur the smell of blood was putting in my voice, for drunkenness and left…more's the pity.

It appeared they didn't care one way or another. Let me tell you, it's very damaging for a three thousand year old vampire queen's ego to be hauled over a peri's shoulder and carted off like a sack of potatoes. However, by this point in our relationship I was entirely used to these two not respecting my prestige.

Ishiah and Robin kidnapped me from my own club, The Bride (i.e. the Bride of Dracula, but that sounded so cheesy) which I named after myself ("They could build monuments to your self centeredness, the both of you," Ishiah grumbled. "They have," Robin and I chorused together, grinning cheekily.) At the very least, Robin's car had very comfy back seats, I thought as Ish tossed me through the door. Ish climbed in the front seat with Robin and we were off to who knows where.

The drive to the airport was in relative silence as I sulked in the backseat and Robin and Ish murmured to themselves up front. Robin's private jet was waiting ready to go and all Robins had to do was pull his car into the belly of the plane. I suppose Robin wanted to make sure I had no chance to take off. Wise of him, as I definitely would have given half the chance.

Robin and Ish refused to unlock the cars doors until the plane was well and truly off the ground. They dragged me up into the top of the plane and sat me down on a plush loveseat. Robin spread himself out on the divan like a King and Ish sank gratefully into an armchair. Robin's plane was a tribute to hedonistic tendencies.

"So, where are you taking me?" I asked.

"New York," Robin answered leisurely.

"What!?" New York! New York? "I don't want to go to New York. It's crowded and smoggy and yucky," I whined. "I like Alaska. Let's just stay here."

"What are you?" Ishiah groused. "3000, or 3?"

Looks of angelic innocence complete with fake halo had never worked on Ishiah. Maybe the fangs threw it off. At any rate, I was clearly getting no where with this approach. "You know, she probably doesn't even want to see me," I reasoned. "I mean, its her wedding day and I'm –"

"– the only one who can bless her union with Niko," Robin interjected. "Drac was killed in San Francisco twenty years ago. That makes you the head of the 'family' until you sign the right over to someone else."

I tried to feel some small measure of mourning over the demise of my ex-husband, but couldn't scrounge up anything more than a passing "Cya, sucka." I returned my attention to Robin, who sounded unusually serious. "You must really care about this Niko guy. Tell me, does he deserve to be my Promise's consort?"

"Promise could never find a better man," Ish assured me. It made me feel marginally better coming from him, an excellent judge of character, where as Robin himself was like a character study in bad judgment. I was suddenly eager to meet this Niko, but likewise was terrified to see Promise again.

"I still think this is a bad idea. You could have just brought me the abdication papers. I could have signed it off to Promise and then she wouldn't need anyone's consent."

"Ah, but maybe we just missed you," Robin whined.

I snorted. It was unlikely. The last time Robin and I had met, he pissed me off so bad I bit him. Ishiah and I had just seen each other a few months ago. He was by far my favorite out of the two. More often than not, Robin made me want to commit homicide…or suicide, depended on if I was in a position to get my fangs in him. I told him so.

"Now, that isn't nice at all, my dear," Goodfellow admonished. I bared my teeth at him, an action which usually inspires terror in any creature with half a brain, but which Robin merely chuckled at. He either has no sense of self-preservation, or I have lost my edge. To test the theory, I repeated the action at the flight attendant, who turned white, dropped her tray, and fled the cabin shrieking. Yup, the fault lay in Goodfellow and I still got it.

Assured of my frightening-ness, I settled back against the cushions with a cocky grin. Clearly, I had no say in this. Of course, If I really wanted to, I could get out of this, but I'd probably have to kill everyone on the plane. Except the pilot, since I can't fly, and I'd rather not find out if 3000 years is enough to enable me to survive a horrible plane crash. It should be, of course, but it probably wouldn't be, knowing how I get on with Lady Luck and Darling Murphy with her stupid law.

Sighing again, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep but the anxiety of the coming reunion with my childe left me feeling restless and antsy. The walls of the plane felt like a cage, and it was going to be a long flight.

* * *

Several hours and ten of those little airline vodka bottles later (damned vampire constitution), the pilot announced our on coming descent and I began calculating the odds of escape once we hit the ground. In the end, it didn't matter. The plane pulled right into a tightly sealed hanger and we departed straight into an armored limo that made the new president's look like a child's toy.

Inside the limo, Ishiah handed me a suitcase. "Here, if you want to change into something less…" He made a gesture toward my club clothes.

"Why? Can you honestly say Robin doesn't wear worse on a daily basis?" I took the suitcase anyway and pulled out a pair of black jeans and a black denim lace up corset with a white flowly sleeved shirt. It made me look like a modern pirate but it looked good on me.

"Turn around," I demanded. For once, they actually listened and I dressed quickly, pulling on boots and tying my thick black curls up in a red gauzy bandana. Combined with my pale skin, brown eyes, and large dangly earrings, I resembled nothing so much as a gypsy pirate.

"You look good, babe," Robin said, once I let him turn around. "Takes me back to the good old days of drinking and debauchery."

Only Robin would consider my pirating days as the "good old days". It wasn't my shining moment really, and to tell the truth it hadn't been his either. Moving on…

The trip from the airport was relatively short and in no time we were pulling up to a ritzy apartment building, complete with a doorman and valet. It was Robin's place no doubt. It practically screamed "Robin Goodfellow, father of hedonistic tendencies , resides here." Walking into Robin's place was a trip. We probably looked like a rich party boy, his bodyguard and a hooker.

"So," I said, as we rode in the elevator to the penthouse floor. "When are we going to see Promise?"

"We're not. She's waiting in my apartment. I figured you'd want to get this over with as soon as possible."

That was unusually considerate and perceptive of Robin.

"I told his to make sure she was here when we got here," Ish said.

That made more sense.

"Great. Can't wait." Actually, I could. Another 200 some years seemed adequate.

200 years I would not get. I didn't even get 200 seconds. The door to the elevator slid open with a ding to reveal Robin's living room, and sitting in a cushy leather seat was my Promise.

* * *

**A/N: I should be updating again soon. Please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

She was stiff as a board and regal as a queen. Sitting in a black leather chair, back straight, head held high, palms flat on her thighs and eyes boring a hole through the wall, she reminded me of a statue I'd seen once in the Louvre. She wore black leather pants, a flowing purple shirt with an empire waistline, high-heeled black leather boots, and half a dozen gold necklaces around her slender neck. Even stiff and clearly displeased, she took my breath away.

She appeared not to have noticed my entrance, and I took the time to pass a critical eye over the other occupants of the room. Beside Promise on the leather seat was a tall blonde man. His hair was long and pulled back in a ponytail. He wore a nice button up shirt and black slacks. He was clean and put together and I instantly knew this was Promise's Niko.

On the other side of the room, pacing anxiously was a young man. His dark brown – almost black – hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. He wore a black leather jacket and torn jeans with a threadbare t-shirt. His gun was clearly visible on his hip and he smelled horribly of Auphe. This must be the brother, Caliban.

Beside him was a mocha skinned, frizzy red haired, freckled girl whom I assumed must be Georgina, the psychic Robin had told me of. She was dressed to largely resemble the classic image of a gypsy crystal ball reader, and was staring right at me, apparently the only one who had noticed my presence. Unbidden, a shiver ran down my spine. Psychic, right. I would have to keep an eye on her.

I smiled at her, just to be friendly, and she gave me a small grin and wave back. This attracted the attention of lover boy (Caliban), his attention attracted Niko's. When Niko's focus suddenly wandered, Promise went, if possible, even stiffer.

Slowly, she turned and then all attention was on me. Robin threw an arm over my shoulder and Ish shouldered past us both. I shrugged Robin off and stepped forward as Promise and Niko rose from their seat and Caliban came to stand by his brother. Georgina King, New York's psychic sweetie, hung back by the book cases that seemed oddly out of place in a room belonging to Robin.

"Promissory," I said, voice tense and shoulders straight, head high. It would be a cold day in hell before I let my childe intimidate me, in front of her anyway.

"Anjuila," Promise deadpanned, as if to say, you insisted on full names, you pay the price. She knew I hated my full name. Anju was what I went by. "May I introduce my prospective consort, Niko Leandros."

Niko stepped forward and took my hand, pressing a kiss to my wrist. "Charmed, milady."

Hmm…. cute, manners…he was a vast improvement of Promise's last consort.

"Likewise," I intoned, touching my fingers lightly to his cheek as he stood.

"Milady," Niko said. Eventually, I'd tell him to stop the milady stuff, but for now I'd enjoy the formalities while they lasted. It would be a while before I had people bowing down to me again. Centuries, probably, if I had to wait for Blake to find a consort in order to get a little respect again. "Allow me to introduce my brother, Cal and our friend, Georgina King."

Caliban just sort of nodded at me. Georgina however, glided forward and took one of my hands between both of hers, concentrating intently on my palm. The chill of my skin seemed not to bother her. No one interrupted her either.

"Hmm…" Georgina made small contemplative sounds while she stroked my palm lines and twisted my hand this way and that. "Ah."

"Oh?" I queried.

"You have an incredibly long life line. How long have you been on this Earth, Madame?" she asked politely.

"Please, call me Anju, Mistress." Mistress was the proper address for a powerful psychic. Somehow I doubted she'd ever been called it before. From what Robin's told me, she usually does readings in an ice cream shop for the people who live around that neighborhood. The likelihood that she'd ever met someone who knew the etiquette (or had the good grace to use it at least, I thought, shooting a sharp glance over at Robin) was slim.

"Then, I insist you call me George."

"Alright, George. To answer your question, I was born in 1192 B.C. and Changed in 1173 B.C."

I heard sharp intakes of breath from Caliban and Niko. Caliban smelled of wariness and caution, Niko of curiosity and respect. That was good. I liked that Promise's consort was respectful of my age but not fearful of it. That boded well for his ability to handle the responsibilities of marrying my Promise.

"That's a very long time to walk this Earth alone," George murmured, sadness and pity coloring her voice. I wondered what she'd seen, my past, my present, my future, all of the above? "Always, always alone. You could be surrounded by all your Childer and all their Childer, and still be so alone." She spoke loud enough only for myself to hear and I wondered if she knew the reason. I suddenly hoped she did not I really wanted this girl to like me. But I knew she did.

"Well, Georgie, if you would stop molesting Anju's hand, we have things to do," Promise snapped.

George dropped my hand with a nod of acquiescence to Promise and a small, sad smile to me.

Psychic Playtime over, I turned my mind to the matter at hand.

* * *

**A/N: I know it's not the longest, but I promise I will have more of it posted before the break is over. Please please please review! It inspires me!**


	3. Authors Note

A/N: I am quite sorry to say that it will probably be a while until I get the next chapter of any of my stories out. I had a minor mishap with my memory stick that became a huge inconvenience when it bit the dust and took my stories with it. I am deep in denial that such a thing ever occurred and am hoping in vain that the freaking thing will magically fix itself and give me my gigabyte worth of work back. Alas, the rational part of my brain tiny though it may be, is screaming that this will never happen. Please be patient with me. Thank you.


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